Thursday, February 4, 2021

Chad on the warpath (revisited)

Since more than half of our readers discovered this blog less than five years ago I thought it would be nice to re-introduce some older stories for those who didn't catch them when they were first published. Enjoy!

Featured in this story: 
 and Alex (click for pictures)

I should have known something was wrong the minute I walked into the empty studio.

It was a hot, sunny summer day. Just nine o’clock in the morning and I felt I could use a cold shower – after having taken one less than an hour ago.

I had decided to wear as little clothing as possible. As a result I was wearing flip-flops, loose shorts and a sleeveless shirt – I wasn’t even wearing underwear. My freewheeling junk was dangling between my legs.

I put my bag into a corner and stood at kitchen door. A fresh breeze was blowing through the studio. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

I was transporting myself to a beautiful beach, scantily clad people all around me. I was standing with my back to the kitchen – mistake No. 1 -, my legs spread wide – mistake No. 2 –, my mind suspended in blissful laziness – mistake No. 3.

Had I been a little less lazy, I would have noticed that the breeze came because the windows were open. And the windows were open, because someone was at the studio. And that person happened to stand right behind me, sneaking up to me like a ninja warrior – Chad, my cameraman.

I wasn’t aware of his presence until his sneaker-clad foot connected with my dangling testicles.

No comments: